


Male Bonding Rituals

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Banter, M/M, Mind Meld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-04
Updated: 2011-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-20 03:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things aren't exactly going smoothly between Spock and Uhura, and Kirk offers Spock some friendly advice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Male Bonding Rituals

“Say, Mr Spock, how’re things going with you and Uhura?” As if Jim hasn’t seen Uhura’s badly concealed frustration and Spock’s barely-there bafflement, and guessed exactly how things were going. That is to say, not at all.

“I was under the impression that it is against human custom to speak of such private matters,” Spock says primly.

Jim chuckles. “Don’t kiss and tell, eh? Well, Spock, there is actually a time honoured custom between human males that we call, uhm, bragging about our conquests.” That was how _she’d_ put it anyway, right before she slapped him across the face.

“I do not believe Lieutenant Uhura would appreciate being referred to as my conquest, Jim.” No, probably not.

Jim tries again. “But if you’re having problems in the sack, it’s also perfectly acceptable to complain about it to your friends, you know, over a couple shots of Jack.” He’s pretty much lying through his teeth with that one, but he needs to know--Spock is his friend, after all, and Jim is confident that he can help. Also, he’s just plain curious.

“Very well. I appreciate the opportunity to share this male bonding ritual with you, Jim,” Spock says, and that’s how they end up in the Captain’s quarters with two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey on the table between them.

“So,” Jim says after his first shot. Spock follows suite, making a face that Jim can’t quite interpret. “What’s Uhura’s problem?

“I do not wish to imply any criticism of the lieutenant, quite the opposite, but I fear that my inexperience, combined with a lack of sufficient emotional response, inhibits our interactions. I have attempted to compensate, but I do not believe I am achieving the desired result. The lieutenant continues to appear frustrated.”

Jim has this sudden image of Uhura going down on Spock--and _why_ is that image so irresistibly hot?--with his long, pale fingers tangled in her hair, and him saying, “I calculate that there is an eighty-five percent probability of my achieving orgasm within the next seven minutes, if you continue with this course of action.” It makes him cringe. He does another shot to help himself cope.

“Hey, is Vulcan…anatomy the same as ours?”

“I do not believe that the problem is due to my lack of knowledge regarding the human female anatomy. I have researched the physiology and technique very thoroughly.”

Jim can feel his cheeks turning pink. How would Spock have conducted his research? Medical texts? Pornography? Knowing him, probably the former, but the other image is in his head now, the one of Spock’s dark head bent studiously over an X-rated video, perhaps taking notes in longhand, and Jim’s cock is picking up on it, and this is not at all how this was supposed to go.

“Jim? Are you distressed?”

“’Course not,” Jim says, trying a grin. Spock nods seriously.

“I wonder… Jim, might I prevail upon our friendship to ask a favour of you?"

“Sure,” Jim says, although he really just wants this conversation to be over now.

“You have a great deal more experience with women than I. Perhaps you could offer me some instruction on how to proceed with Lieutenant Uhura?”

“Nrrrgh,” Jim says, and Spock’s eyebrows quirk with what Jim has learned to recognize as worry.

“Have I said something wrong? I thought it only logical, considering your relative expertise. And I can think of no one else with whom I would be comfortable discussing such personal matters.”

It clicks then, how much trust Spock is placing in him by even having this conversation, and now he is offering still more by asking for his friend’s help. Jim doesn’t think he’s imagining the hopeful note in the Vulcan’s voice. This is something Spock wants, and damn him, Jim is finding it hard not to want to give it to him. And Spock is right, it is only logical.

Thirty minutes later, Jim has this totally under control. Really. He’s just trying to explain some of the finer points of what can be done with his hands and mouth so that Uhura feels less like she’s getting it on with an android. Because Spock may be awesome at the technical aspect of getting her off, but then so are vibrators. Jim knows exactly how he’d fix the problem--not that it’s a problem he’d have in the first place--but getting it through to Spock is a different can of worms.

“Spock, if you say something is illogical one more time, I’m going to maroon you.” He pours them both another shot. “Of course it’s illogical, it’s sex. It’s not supposed to make sense. It’s just supposed to happen. Turn your brain off.” Of course that was a stupid thing to say, and Spock looks at him reproachfully. He downs his drink with the most determined enthusiasm Jim has ever seen.

“Then perhaps I might benefit from a more hands-on form of instruction.” Spock is matter-of-fact, unaware that he is taking their “bonding ritual” into wildly inappropriate territory. “A demonstration, if you will.”

Jim doesn’t mean to do it, but he’s buzzed and half-hard. He isn’t exactly thinking. He leans across the table and takes Spock’s face gently in his hands, rubbing his thumbs along the upswept points of his ears. He kisses Spock’s forehead, his nose, his eyelids. He trails kisses along his jaw and down his neck. Spock’s breath catches in his throat, and when Jim looks up, there is a faint greenish blush spreading across his friend’s cheeks.

“Show her that she’s something precious, that you cherish her,” Jim breathes warmly against Spock’s ear. Spock’s hands clench on the arms of his chair.

“I often inform her of similar things, but it does not seem to have quite…this effect.”

Jim chuckles and slides them closer together. “You don’t need to talk, Spock,” he says. “Show her.” He cards his fingers through Spock’s hair and kisses him on the mouth, warm and open. Spock watches him wide-eyed, still clinging to the arms of his chair. Jim is a little surprised himself, but they’ve already crossed every line that mattered, and he’s drunk enough and horny enough that he can hardly hear the little voice in the back of his head telling him all the reasons that taking this any further is a bad idea. Not that it’s ever a very loud voice, anyway.

And Spock is kissing him back now, so it can’t be that bad of an idea, because Spock would say something if he thought it was. He’s got his hands on Jim’s hips, pulling him in, pressing between his thighs, and the rough unsteady grind of their bodies through their uniforms , Spock’s ragged breathing, his hands urging Jim faster, it’s all too much; Jim is going to break.

And suddenly it’s not just him, it’s Spock too, Spock’s hand on his face, Spock breathing, “Oh _Jim_ ,” like it’s too good to believe. Jim feels his friend reeling from the onslaught of his own mind, his own emotions--the tumult of _need_ and desire and affection bombarding his weakened mental defenses, and Jim takes a deep breath, trying to be calm for him. He feels Spock’s gratitude brush his mind like a butterfly’s wing.

This is different to what happened in the ice caves on Delta Vega, stronger and more intimate. Every sensation doubles--he feels Spock’s mouth on his neck and tastes the salt-sweet tang of his own skin, two heartbeats pound in his head, and every roll of his hips is echoed by the sharp burn of pleasure that it gives Spock--and as it all builds, _so close now_ , his stomach jolts with unexpected surprise, fear, shame; not his own. Too much caring, too much want, threatening to spiral out of control, and ruin everything.

“No, no, that’s not true, Spock,” he whispers, covering Spock’s hands with his own. “You won’t--you can’t--ruin this. I’ve got you. I’ll always be here.” And he means it. _Forever_ echoes between them; the fear and shame fade, and Spock surrenders. His orgasm rips through them both, and Jim shudders and comes, whimpering at so much raw sensation doubled and echoing through their connection. This, Jim realizes, is what he wants, Spock, like this, with him and within him, openness and belonging so complete that it’s as though they’re one. He collapses onto his first officer’s lap, burying his face in Spock’s neck.

The meld is fading, leaving him alone in his own mind, but in the last few seconds, he catches a flash of Uhura’s face, and the realization that after all these weeks, they have never shared a mind meld. There is regret and sadness, but the choice is clear, even logical.

 _Shit_ , Jim thinks. He feels whole, and alive, and just about the last thing he wants to do is let Spock out of his arms, but he never wanted to hurt Uhura; he didn’t think this would go so far, or mean so much. But that has always been Jim Kirk’s problem, hasn’t it? He doesn’t think. “Shit,” he mumbles into Spock’s neck.

“Jim. It is illogical to castigate yourself over this event. Perhaps Lieutenant Uhura and I are proving to be incompatible. For you to assume that your actions have any bearing upon that fundamental fact is exceedingly egotistical, even by your standards.” Jim huffs a laugh, lifting his head.

“Yeah? Well, I hope she sees it that way.” His legs are starting to fall asleep, so he slides off of Spock’s lap, wincing at the unpleasantly sticky mess he’s made of his trousers. His head spins a little, the aftermath of a mind-blowing orgasm and six shots of Jack.

“I would recommend that you clean up and go to bed, Jim,” Spock says, rising. Their eyes meet, and Jim knows that he really did mean forever and that the thought of a hole inside him where Spock is supposed to be scares him. He doesn’t even care how, but he needs Spock with him, with a desperation that he hasn’t realized before.

“I am, and will always be, your friend,” Spock says, and kisses him.

That is all that Jim Kirk needs.

 

FIN


End file.
